


Warmth and Security

by MissDoctorDonna



Series: Magnificent Seven Brothers [1]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Gen, No Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissDoctorDonna/pseuds/MissDoctorDonna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vin comes to Ezra for a pot of linament and ends up with a whole lot more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth and Security

**Author's Note:**

> It's hard to sum up this one as there's no real plot. Just ramblings of a distracted mind. Not slash! First in Brothers series. No profits being made here. I'm just playing with the characters and will return them when I'm done.

Ushering out the boy who helped Inez around the saloon, Ezra Standish immediately shut and locked the door. Drawing in an enormous lungful of air, he released it in a gusty sigh as he relaxed his shoulders and leaned his head against the wooden barrier currently protecting him from the world. He and the others had just returned from a gruelling week of fast riding, sleeping rough and harrowing danger, chasing down a group of men foolish enough to think they could steal from the Four Corners Bank and get away with it. Chris Larabee had been relentless, driving his team almost beyond their endurance, until they'd recovered the ill-gotten gains. The four robbers hadn't surrendered the money willingly, dying in their efforts to retain possession. Shaking his head wearily, Ezra pushed away from the door and plodded to his dresser, all his normal grace forgotten in the face of total exhaustion.

Removing his weaponry and jewellery without conscious thought, he then started removing his layers of dusty, sweat stained finery. Sitting on his feather bed would be his downfall, so he instead leaned his butt on the bed frame for balance as he yanked first boots and then socks from his burning, aching feet. The arches of his feet were screaming from their almost constant position in stirrups over the past week. Groaning with relief, Ezra wriggled his toes and relished the feel of the cool floorboards. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd been barefoot and it feeling this good.

Struggling to find a way to lower his suspenders and shrug out of his travel soiled linen shirt without angering his tight shoulder muscles even further, Ezra hobbled over to his personal bath tub. Inez's helper, Rafael, had just brought up enough hot water to fill it and the gambler stood gazing at the steam lifting lazily off the surface. Inhaling deeply again, he smiled at the scent of the lavender and pine sachet he'd hung over the side of the tub to infuse the water with some healing powers. A small smirk slide onto his face as he thought of his fellow peacekeepers having to fight each other to see who went first over in the public bath house. There was only four tubs large enough for his very tall compatriots to stretch out in. JD, as the shortest and youngest, would be automatically relegated to one of the small tubs. As the second shortest and due to his self-assumed status as a gentleman, Ezra had quickly purchased his own full sized tub so that he might bathe in the peace and privacy of his own room. He paid Rafael to heat and haul his water twice a week, or when required. The boy was always glad of the extra coins as he was saving for his own horse.

Startled from his contemplation by a quiet rapping on his door, Ezra cursed and went to answer the summons, thinking Rafael had forgotten something. As he unlocked the door and flung it open, the southerner growled, "I have no furth..."

It was a close draw as to who was more startled, the gambler at seeing Vin Tanner at his door, or the tracker at seeing his impeccably attired friend in an unusual state of rumpled undress.

"Mr Tanner! What an unexpected surprise. What brings you to my humble abode at so late an hour? Mr Larabee did release us from our duties for the night, did he not?"

Dropping his gaze, Vin found himself mesmerised by the bare feet of the gambler. They were as delicate and well cared for as the man's hands, smooth and unblemished by corns or bunions. He didn't think he'd ever noted a person with feet so pretty.

Frowning when he received no response from the Texan and conscious of the rapidly cooling water that waiting for him, Ezra continued, "Mr Tanner? Mr Tanner? I was just readying myself for my nightly ablutions, so if you could state your business succinctly and promptly, I'd be grateful."

Mind dulled by exhaustion and pain, Vin continued to stare downwards until Ezra reached out and gave his shoulder a gentle shake to bring him back to the present. The action brought the pain in his back to full roaring life and he gasped and reached out to grip the door frame desperately as his vision dimmed and his knees tried to buckle.

"Good lord, Vin, what is it? Did you injure yourself? Should I get Mr Jackson?" Alarmed at seeing the tracker turn bone white and commence shaking, Ezra reached out and placed both hands around the slender waist of his friend, hoping to keep the man upright.

"No! Don't want Nate fussin' 'n pokin' 'n pourin' his skunk juice down me. Need yer help, Ez. Don't want ter be a bother but I need yer help," gasped Vin, moving his hands from the doorframe to grip the gambler's shoulders, clinging to him.

Pressing his lips together, Ezra studied the distraught young man in front of him shrewdly. Nodding to himself, he decided that he owed Vin whatever the man might ask of him. The young Texan had always been kind to him, even after the gambler had been so obnoxious about the tracker's first and until now only request for help. Besides, Ezra could certainly understand the desire to avoid Nathan's attentions. The ex-slave was a godsend when you were truly hurt, sick or dying, but he had a tendency to strip a man of all dignity and smother a soul with his brand of tending when the malady was not life threatening. The healer had also developed the disturbing habit of hiding a man's pants, so he couldn't escape without baring his assets to all and sundry. Modesty was not one of Ezra's failings and he'd been known to rabbit from the clinic in the dead of night in his altogether, but the painfully shy young Texan would sooner shoot his beloved Miz Nettie than leave his bed in anything less than full attire.

Chuckling at that last thought, Ezra snaked his arm around Vin's waist and gently guided him into the room. Leaving him by the bed, Ezra turned to once again shut and lock the door, asking, "What is it that ails you, my friend? What is it that you don't want the others to know about?"

Daring to hope that the southerner was going to help him, without notifying Nathan, Vin licked his lips nervously and admitted his problem for the first time in years. When you've got a bounty on your hide, it didn't pay to advertise your weakness. "'S ma back. Hurt it when I's a littlun and guess it ain't ever healed right. Cold nights like tanight make it ache somethin' fierce and all the riding we's done this past week ain't helped none neither. I know Nate gave ya some smelly gunk to rub on yer shoulder last time it went out and I's hopin' ya had some left that ya could maybe spare me."

Rubbing a thumb over his lower lip, Ezra studied Vin thoughtfully, noting how he was swaying slightly, the pinched gray look of pain on his face, the white knuckled hold he had on the bedstead and the pleading look in his expressive blue eyes. His mother would be appalled at the surge of protective affection he felt for the scruffy, ex-bounty hunter, but it couldn't be helped. For who knew what reason, it appeared that Ezra had become very fond of this walking paradox of wild man and little boy. Now, it seemed that Vin needed some care and by the gods, Ezra would not be letting his friend down a second time.

Mistaking the ongoing silence for rejection, Vin started to shuffle towards the door, stating despondently, "Ain't no nevermind iffun yer ain't got any left, Ez. I'll be fine. I'd best let yer get on with yer bath."

Moving forward and hooking his finger under the forlorn tracker's stubbly chin, Ezra raised his friend's head so that their eyes met and said gently, "I think you need more than a little unguent to ease your pain tonight, don't you?"

White hot pain speared down Vin's spine and into his legs, reminding him that he needed to lie down and soon. The thought of making it back downstairs, let alone to his frigid, draughty wagon, or cold, impersonal room up all those stairs at the boarding house brought tears to his eyes. But he didn't want to go to Nathan's either. The man hid his pants! It just wasn't right to leave a man in nothing but his hide when people, including women folk, would be traipsing in and out.

"Don't make me go to Nate, Ez? Please?"

Horrified by the tears in the proud man's eyes and the pleading in his voice, Ezra hastened to reassure his friend, "There now, Vin. I had no intention of turning you over to Mr Jackson's tender mercies. Here's what I propose. We'll get you out of those dusty, smelly hides you insist on calling suitable attire and into the bath waiting behind you for a soothing, hot soak. Then, I'll rub some of the liniment into your back and you can pass the night here in the warmth and comfort of my feather bed. By morning, you'll feel like a new man and the others will be none the wiser."

Sniffling and blinking away the moisture in his eyes, Vin considered the offer. Warmth flooded him when he realised that the southerner was offering more than leftover medicine. He was offering to take care of him. Vin had had precious few people who were interesting in his well being, but he recognised one when he saw one. Shyly, he glanced at the gambler through lowered lashes and asked, "What about you though? It's yer bath and where'll ya sleep iffun I's in yer bed."

Smiling gently at the almost childlike demeanour of his friend, Ezra replied, "I can have Rafael bring more water after you're done. As for the sleeping arrangements, well, it wouldn't be the first time I've shared a bed. I think my virtue will be safe with you and so long as you don't snore like Josiah or cuddle me like Buck does, I believe we'll manage."

"Yer know I don't snore, Ez. Cain't promise not to cuddle yer though, ya do smell awful purty after yer ab... ablutions," teased the tracker, stumbling over the new word. His eyes when he looked up at the gambler, glowed with gratitude.

Chuckling, Ezra started to ease the hide coat from Vin's shoulders, ignoring the other man's emotive eyes. Laying the coat over a nearby chair with more care than he thought it worth but mindful of the tracker's regard for the mangy garment, the gambler teased back, "You realise that in a short while, you will smell just as pretty, having commandeered my bath water in all it's fragrancy."

Pausing in unbuttoning his pants, Vin pasted a look of mock horror onto his face as he whined, "Aw hell, I'm gonna smell like a girl 'til ma next bath, ain't I?"

Ezra's gold tooth glinted in the lamplight as he grinned widely, enjoying the banter immensely. "Which, knowing your aversion to bath houses, could be quite some time. Hey now! There's no call for physical violence, Mr Tanner."

Sucking in a sharp breath, Vin held it as he waited for the pain to pass. He shouldn't have made the quick lunge to pinch the gambler in retaliation for his slight to the tracker's hygiene.

Moving from where he'd been unbuttoning Vin's shirt, Ezra rubbed slow, comforting circles on the tracker's back, crooning softly as Vin leaned against him. Once he saw the lines of agony smooth out again and Vin shifted to take his own weight back, Ezra returned to his goal of getting the Texan into the bath as quickly as possible. Squatting, he tapped Vin's foot, ordering, "Lift your foot, my friend."

In a short amount of time, Vin was naked and standing by the tub. Gripping Ezra's arms, he painfully lifted his foot and set it in the tub. Repeating the action, he then allowed the gambler to help lower him into a siting position, hissing in agony at the protest his abused back muscles made.

Picking up a jug and dipping it into one of the clean buckets of water sitting next to the tub, Ezra ordered, "Tilt your head back!"

Doing as he was told, Vin was glad of the support offered by the hand Ezra held at the back of his neck. He closed his eyes in pleasure at the feel of warm water rinsing through his sweat and dust matted hair. Unable to help himself, he moaned as the gambler's strong, slender fingers began to massage hair soap into his scalp.

Grinning, Ezra continued to soap Vin's hair and scalp for a few minutes longer than necessary. His friend was almost purring with the attention. Ignoring the faint sound of disappointment uttered by the wet Texan, he stopped and rinsed the tangled mop of hair before guiding Vin into sitting forward with his head resting on his bent knees. Picking up the clean wash cloth, he soaped it up and used it to rub slow, gentle circles over Vin's back, earning him further contented sounds of pleasure. Idly hoping that no-one was listening at his door, Ezra concentrated on his task. He'd never found himself giving a bath to a full grown man, but figured it was the same as when he'd bathed his younger cousins after he'd been dumped on his Uncle and pressed into child rearing duties at the tender age of twelve. Hair, back, arms, chest, legs, face, then give the wash cloth back for the bather to attend to their private areas, whilst he busied himself elsewhere.

Lost in a world of pleasant sensations, Vin pushed his embarrassment aside and let his friend move him about and wash him, since every small move he made on his own sent fresh bolts of agony down his back into his legs. His mind tried to surface when Ezra moved the wash cloth down his stomach, his muscles tensing a little in preparation to protest too intimate a touch. But aside from a swirling of the water around his nethers, there was no further touch. Instead the gentle ministrations continued down his legs. The room was silent with the exception of the swishing and slopping of water and the slurping, squishy noise made when Ezra would pause to soap up the cloth again. An undignified giggle escaped Vin when his ticklish feet were attended to, prompting an amused chuckle from the southerner in response.

Still smiling, Ezra draped the first wash cloth over the side of the tub then stood to collect a fresh cloth from the dresser, before taking the few steps back to the bath. Dipping the washer in a bucket of clean water and soaping it up, he launched a final assault on the tracker's face.

Memories of being bathed by his Ma flooded through the Texan as a warm, wet, sweet smelling cloth was unexpectedly applied to his face. Ezra was almost tender in his ministrations, taking care to avoid getting the soap in Vin's eyes or mouth. The young Texan couldn't help the shudder as the cloth made its way into and around his ear, his shoulder hiking up involuntarily as he squirmed against the assault. The back of his neck was grasped firmly as the cloth mercilessly cleaned out trail dust from the other ear too.

"Ezzzzzz," whined Vin, trying to take the implement of torture off his friend.

Laughing merrily, Ezra slapped the cloth onto the Texan's chest and got to his feet with a groan as his knees and back protested. "There, all done, Mr Tanner. I'll leave you to attend to the areas I missed as I get a few things together, then we'd best get you out of the water as it's becoming a little too cool to give any further therapeutic benefit."

A shy smile curving his lips, Vin watched as the gambler moved away, keeping his back turned to allow Vin the privacy to attend to his nethers. The heat of the water had loosened his back muscles significantly and the head rub Ezra had given him when he'd washed his hair had eased the headache and neck pain. Carefully squeezing out the cloth, he draped it on the side of the tub. Seeing Ezra returning with a bath sheet draped over his arm, he grasped the sides of the tub and hauled himself upright.

"Wait a moment, Mr Tanner. I'll just sluice the excess soap off with this bucket of clean water," fussed Ezra, hastily throwing the bath sheet over his shoulder.

"I's standing here nekkid as the day I's born and yer just bathed me like I's a little kid, Ez. Reckon yer could call me Vin," drawled the tracker with a wry twist of his lips.

Raising his eyebrow, Ezra stopped midway through straightening with the bucket in hand. Snorting, he reached up and poured the water, saying, "You have made a valid point. I believe we are beyond such formalities now... Vin."

Hunching against the deluge of tepid water, Vin grinned at hearing his name in honeyed southern tones. Then he was wrapped in a bath sheet and guided to stand on the rug in the middle of the room with the instructions to dry himself. Doing as he was told, he was soon trying to scrub his hair dry, having attended to his body. Startled, he yelped and scrambled to wrap the towel around himself when there was a knock at the door.

"Calm down, Vin. It will be Rafael wanting to take the water away," murmured Ezra, soothing his ruffled friend.

After a few quiet words and the exchange of coins, the young lad discreetly removed the used bath water and promised to bring up fresh water as soon as it had heated.

Dismayed, Vin suddenly realised that he had nothing clean to put on and really didn't relish the idea of climbing back into his soiled garments, particularly as it would mean likely forfeiture of his place in the warm feather bed.

Ezra turned from closing the door to see a damp, bedraggled Vin Tanner looking at him dolefully as he shivered and shifted from one bare foot to the other. Large, sky blue eyes gazed at him pleadingly and he wondered what was amiss to cause the young tracker to look so woeful. He followed the direction the blue eyes dropped to and chuckled as he realised the problem.

Seeing the bewilderment on the gambler's face, Vin lowered his gaze to where his union suit lay in a filthy crumpled heap. Eagerly looking back at the southerner at the sound of his laughter, he followed as Ezra padded over to his wardrobe. Sighing in relief, he unwrapped one hand from the bath sheet to accept the clean, folded long johns. Grinning widely, he shucked off the sheet to pull on the underwear. Bending caused his grin to fade and made him hiss with the reminder that all was not completely well with his back.

Ezra winced at the sound of pain, moving to hold Vin's lightly freckled shoulders to keep him from over balancing. Guiding his friend to the turned down bed, he sat the younger man on the edge, saying, "Just sit here a minute, whilst I get a few things."

Concentrating on breathing through the pain, Vin gave a brief nod. Seeing Ez's pale, fine boned feet reappear in front of him, he was about to look up when a smaller, dry towel landed on his head and he felt Ezra's long, strong fingers commence drying his hair. Then the towel was gone and his hair was being combed, the knots gently teased out.

"Ntch, you really should get your hair trimmed once in a while, Vin. You'd find it much easier to comb out if you had the dried out ends removed," Ezra scolded mildly.

Shivering in the cool air, Vin leaned closer to the warmth of the gambler, resting his once again aching forehead on the conveniently close belly. Sniffling a little, he murmured, "Hate barbers, Ez. They's always wanting to hack all ma hair off and get pissy when I tell 'em no. Make me feel like I's worse'n garbage."

Taken aback by Vin's actions, Ezra took one last swipe with the comb, then stood with his hand resting lightly on the bowed head in front of him.

"Yes, well, next time I go in for a trim, you will come with me. I guarantee that Albert will do exactly what I tell him and there'll be no attitude from him."

Meekly, Vin just nodded, not wanting to argue when he was so tired and starting to feel poorly again.

Sighing softly, Ezra carded his fingers through the damp curls of the man in front of him. Much as he wanted to just tuck his suffering friend into bed, there was a few more things that needed doing. Gently pushing Vin upright, he smiled as the man blinked up at him blearily, promising, "Nearly done, Vin. Just a few more minutes, all right?"

Nodding, Vin struggled to focus on the southerner as he walked to his dresser and rummaged in a drawer. Then his eyes followed the blurry shape over to the other dresser and he licked his lips in anticipation as he heard the slosh of water being poured into a glass.

Coming back to sit beside Vin on the bed, Ezra placed some items on the bed stand. Taking a new toothbrush he'd just purchased from Mrs Potter from a paper bag, he dipped it first in the glass of water and then into a pot of tooth powder before offering it to the watching tracker.

Seizing the offering, Vin eagerly and thoroughly brushed the fuzz off his teeth, spitting into the mug Ezra held out. Handing back the brush, he grabbed the glass of water, swishing the first mouthful around vigorously before spitting it into the once again proffered mug. Guzzling the rest of the sweet, clean, vaguely minty water, he returned the glass with a quiet belch.

Unable to help the laugh that bubbled out, Ezra stood to remove the dental accoutrements and to replenish the water from the jug on his stand. Offering the refilled glass to Vin, he discreetly edged the chamber pot out from under the bed and turned away to search for the liniment.

Placing the empty glass on the bed stand, Vin blushed at the sight of the po, before realising that he needed it. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Ezra was otherwise occupied, he quickly relieved himself and pushed the pot back under the bed.

Hearing the scrape, Ezra turned back to Vin, seeing him list to one side. Leaping forward with his usual graceful agility, Ezra managed to catch the young tracker before he fell off the bed. Holding onto Vin as the man panted through the pain, he smoothed his hand lightly over the rough head that had once again come to rest against his flat stomach.

"God Ez, dunno how much more o' this I kin take," rasped Vin, clutching at the sides of the gambler's pants as he ground his aching forehead into his friend's warm, hard belly. "Feels like ma back's on fire and someone's driving swords down ma legs. Head hurts something fierce too and I's got frogs in ma belly."

Hearing the hitch to the young Texan's breathing, Ezra knew with certainty that his friend was at the end of his considerable pain tolerance and near tears. In fact he could feel the scalding trail of one or two tears on his bare skin already. Squeezing one pale shoulder reassuringly, he soothed, "Time to lie down now, Vin. I'll rub some of Mr Jackson's liniment into your back and you'll soon be sleeping peacefully. This will pass, I promise."

Nodding, Vin gave a small hiccoughing noise as he pushed away from Ezra and painfully moved to lie on his stomach on the bed, clutching at his long johns to keep them up.

Gathering up the top of the long underwear to keep it from tangling under Vin, Ezra guided him onto the bed. Sitting beside him, the southerner took the small tin of unguent from his pocket, unscrewing the lid and scooping the medicated glop out. Since it had warmed whilst in his pocket, he didn't delay in smoothing it into the tense muscles of the Texan.

Moaning quietly as his tight muscles relaxed under the southerner's expert ministrations, Vin melted into the mattress gratefully. By the time his whole back has been rubbed and his limp arms threaded into the arms of the union suit, he was sleeping peacefully.

A knock at the door announced Rafael's return, so Ezra stood and pulled the covers over his slumbering friend. Striding to the door, he swung it open only to pull up in surprise for the second time that night, at the sight of the black clad, glowering form of Chris Larabee.

"Looking for Vin. He here?"

Eyebrow raising at the growled enquiry, Ezra smirked a little as he stepped back and gestured to the recumbent figure under the quilts. Intrigued, he watched the gunslinger's face soften at the sight.

Voice lowered to a whisper in deference to the sleeper, Chris asked, "He need Nate?"

"No, Mr Larabee, I believe our young friend is quite comfortable at the moment and will remain so for the night. I take it he told you of his difficulties," murmured the gambler, studying the man in front of him. It was hard to ignore the closeness that the hardened shootist and reticent tracker shared and Ezra had often wistfully wished for that sort of bond. Much like the brotherly bond between Buck and JD, Chris and Vin had a familial connection between them that verged on mystic.

Sending a quick look of wry amusement to the bare chested man beside him, Chris snorted softly and muttered, "That stubborn, scruffy Texan wouldn't tell me if he were aflame. Seems to think he needs to be invulnerable or I'll think less of him. Bit like a certain gambler I know, come to think of it. Heaven forbid either of 'em should show they're mere mortals like the rest of us."

Stroking his thumb over his bottom lip thoughtfully, Ezra drawled, "Perhaps Mr Tanner and I do share that trait, however we would not be the only ones in our little band of brothers to do so, would we, Mr Larabee? Appearing infallible and showing no sign of weakness becomes a way of life to some. Vulnerability does not often go unpunished or unexploited in my experience."

Grunting noncommittally at that sad insight into the gambler's past, Chris avoided the arched eyebrow by soft footing over to the bed where he ran a hand lightly over Vin's head. Huffing a silent laugh at the way the Texan's nose wrinkled when a lock of hair fell over his face, the lanky gunslinger delicately smoothed the hair back into place.

Ezra watched the display of tenderness with a small smile, experiencing again the pang of envy at the brotherly closeness that he would never be a part of directly. Still, Vin had sought him out for help, so maybe there was hope for him yet.

Embarrassed at his display of affection being witnessed, Chris coughed and walked back to the door just as Rafael appeared with two steaming buckets of water. Stepping out of the boy's way, he eyed the bath and the evidence of its prior use thoughtfully before turning his eye on the gambler. "You gave up your bath to him, didn't you?"

Shrugging elegantly, the gambler replied simply, "His need was greater."

Silence reigned as Rafael poured the water into the tub and sidled past them out the door to retrieve the next two buckets.

"Amazing how that scruffy sharpshooter makes folk fall over themselves to take care of him. I've never met a more independent, capable, deadly man, but he still manages to get people like you, me, the other boys, Nettie Wells and every other female in the town looking out for him. Don't you deny it either, Ez. This ain't the first time you've been nice to him. I've seen you sneaking hard candy to him and that devil mount of his, along with your own nuisance of a horse. Also know about the books you bought for Mary to help him with his learning. You're a trickster, Ez, but you've got a good heart. Just don't see why you think you've got to hide it from your friends," stated Chris firmly, crossing his arms defiantly as he braced a subject he'd long been stewing over.

Uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, Ezra remained silent as Rafael brought in the second lot of water. Waiting until the boy had left for the third and final lot of water, he cleared his throat and muttered, "Ahem, well, Mr Larabee..."

"That's another thing," interrupted the dark clad man, "Why do you still insist on calling us by our last names? We're friends, Ez. Hell, we're family almost. Why can't ya call us by our first names? It's damned annoying."

"Leave the man alone, Larabee. Some of us are tryin' ter get some shut eye and yer yammerin' ain't exactly a lullaby," drawled a sleepy voice from the bed. "Whatcha want anyhow? Ain't no more room in this bed. Go bunk in with Buck iffun yer want company."

Finding himself pinned by a glare from one half open blue eye, Chris snorted and glared back at him playfully. "Buck is already cuddling up to someone a hell of a lot softer and sweeter than me, cowboy."

Yawning, Vin snuggled into the soft down pillows and replied, "Try JD then 'cos I ain't moving from this here spot and ain't fair to roust Ez from his own bed."

Grinning widely, relieved to see that his friend was feeling much better, Chris growled, "I ain't never sharing with JD again. He cuddles worse than Buck and sleep talks all night besides. And before you say it, Josiah and Nathan both snore fit to wake the dead, so that rules them out."

"Seems yer just out o' luck then, Larabee. Better find yerself a willin' woman, like ole Bucklin, or resign yerself to a cold mattress, 'cos I got here first," taunted the Texan, his self satisfied grin mostly hidden by the pillows.

"One of these days I'm going to shoot your skinny ass, Tanner," scowled Chris, happily winking at a chortling Ezra.

"Naaaah," sighed Vin, sinking back into sleep, "Ez won't let yer. Make a mess of his purty smellin' sheets."

Laughing loudly, Chris slapped Ezra on the shoulder lightly and declared, "Night, boys. I'm going to my cold, lonely bed. See you tomorrow."

Grinning wide enough for his dimples and gold tooth to make an appearance, Ezra lifted his fingers in his customary salute and replied, "Good night... Chris."

Grabbing the gambler's upper arm and giving it a friendly shake, Chris left after gracing Ezra with one of his warmer smiles, showing his pleasure at the reduced formality.

Having dodged around the men for the third time, Rafael dropped the buckets of water beside the bath and went to stand in front of Ezra for any further instructions.

"Good work, young man. Now it is late, so you may leave the water here and go to your bed. You will need to return here after your morning chores to collect the water tomorrow. Here is your wages for tonight. You must nearly have enough for your horse now," chattered Ezra, counting out the required coins into the boy's eager hands.

"Si, Señor Standish. I need only two more dollars and I will have enough. Señor Yosemite has been most kind in keeping Lisandro for me until I had saved the dinero needed. He says that he can give me a second hand saddle that someone left as well," replied the boy, his face fairly glowing with youthful enthusiasm.

Ezra had seen the horses that the child could afford and had pulled the livery owner aside one day with a secret offer. He had not long won a serviceable young colt and slightly worn saddle in a poker game and told Yosemite to hold it for young Rafael. He'd instructed Yosemite to sell it to the boy for the same price as the older nags that the boy had looked at originally. Fond memories of his own first horse, along with his innate care for children, made him make the offer. The money for the horse would be put towards it's feed and board. Grinning at the boy, Ezra chuckled as he led Rafael to the door, saying,"Lisandro, hmm? Liberator? An excellent name for your steed, given the freedom he will afford you."

Nodding, Rafael asked somewhat anxiously, "You are still going to teach me how to train Lisandro as you have Chaucer, are you not, Señor?"

"I am still willing to teach you all I know about horse training, my boy. But now, you must go to your bed. You still have two dollars to earn, so an early start is required," chided the gambler mildly, giving the boy a cheerful wink and rubbing his hair.

With a flurry of thank you's and good nights in both English and Spanish, Rafael sped through the darkened building to the small room he had downstairs.

Dozing comfortably, Vin listened as his friend closed and locked the door, still chuckling about the boy and his horse. The Texan knew about the secret deal as he'd been sitting in Peso's stall, cleaning his tack at the time the gambler approached Yosemite. smiling to himself, he wondered why the gambler took such pains to hide his generous nature.

The next twenty minutes were spent listening to Ezra take his bath and get ready for bed. Tracking Ezra as he padded around the room, he guessed as to his friend's actions of picking up dirty clothing and hanging weaponry on the bedposts, his mare's leg on his side and Ezra's Remington on the other side. He heard the grate on the small stove open and shut as Ezra put more wood in. A grin broke free at the sound of disgust that broke from the genteel southerner when he happened upon Vin's filthy, threadbare, discarded union suit, and he wondered if it would end up fuel for the fire in the morning. Fingering the long johns that he was currently wearing, Vin smiled softly as he realised that the gambler would tell him to keep them, thus ensuring that he had something warm under his clothes.

Finally the lamplight was extinguished and he felt the mattress shift as the southerner climbed in next to him. Half expecting an influx of cold air into his warm cocoon of bedding, he was pleasantly surprised when Ezra managed to slide in without lifting the covers around him. Humming happily, he rubbed his cheek on the pillow and marvelled at the warmth and comfort surrounding him. No wonder Ezra tried to shoot them when they came to force the gambler out of this sanctuary.

Ezra heaved a sigh from his very toes as he finally stretched out in his bed. The fact that he had the quiet Texan to add body warmth on a cold night made it that much nicer. Clean, warm and comfortable for the first time in what felt like a year, he relaxed into the mattress gratefully.

"Ez?"

Sighing silently at the hesitant call, Ezra nonetheless replied, "Yes, Vin?"

"Where'd ya learn how ter rub muscles like ya do? Seemed almost like ya'd done it afore," asked Vin, curiosity winning over exhaustion for now.

"That's a long story, my friend, and you are tired," replied Ezra, with a yawn.

Tentatively reaching out under the covers, Vin plucked at the sleeve of the southerner's nightshirt, saying, "Ain't that tired and I'd like ter hear the story, iffun yer willin' ter tell it."

Turning over on his side to face the Texan, Ezra stared at the eyes gleaming back at him. Finally deciding to trust a piece of his past to the sharpshooter, he took a deep breath and started his story, "During the late unpleasantness, I was left with an uncle by Maude. Said uncle decided that it was his duty to join the Confederate army and defend the South against the Northern aggressors. He took me along as his groom, since he had no-one to leave me with and no idea of when or if Maude would return for me. Sadly, Uncle James didn't last more than a month before he was killed at Hainesville."

Vin swallowed at the pain in Ezra's voice, regretting his request but honouring the answer by listening without interruption. Shifting a little, he took a gentle grip of the gambler's wrist.

Smiling grimly at the contact, Ezra continued, "Afterwards, I was absorbed into the ranks, doing whatever I was told. I served in a field artillery battalion, several cavalry or mounted infantry units, even the field hospitals. My talents with horses and explosives were widely known and utilised, as were my less stellar qualities of being able to infiltrate the Union forces and extract information."

"Ya mean ya was a spy?"

Bleakly, the gambler nodded. "Information was needed and I was good at gathering it. Being welcomed in by the enemy, only to find them to be frightened boys such as myself and knowing that I would be responsible for their deaths... Well, let's say it took a severe toll on my soul. I shut off from everyone around me, concentrating on doing what I was told and trying not to think of the human cost. By the beginning of 1865, I had risen to the rank of Captain."

"Hell, Ez. I never got past Corporal, even though I's good enough at scouting and sniping. They used to call me the California Joe of the South, but I weren't good enough at followin' orders, I guess," murmured the tracker, awed at the rank of his friend. He knew that he and Ezra were the only two of the seven who'd served on the Confederate side. Buck had told some drunken stories one night about when he and Chris had been in the Union army, ribbing Chris and calling him Captain Larabee. "You 'n Chris got to the same rank, just opposite sides of the war. Ya reckon ya ever went up against him?"

A bone-deep tiredness settled on Ezra as he replied, "Anything's possible, Vin, but I don't recall seeing him. Anyway, I was quite severely injured towards the end of 1864, one of the few survivors from my unit. I was sent from field hospital to field hospital until I ended up at Chimborazo. The staff there saved my life and when I'd recovered, I helped them with my fellow patients. A Cajun nurse who had helped me, showed me how to massage muscles to alleviate pain and increase blood flow in the extremities. It also seemed to help stop the terrible sores that some of the men suffered when forced to lie in one position too long. We were evacuated from the hospital and I was sent back to serve. It wasn't long after that that Lee surrendered and we all began the process of learning to live as civilians again."

Silence enveloped the two men as they remembered things they'd thought buried. Ezra had moved his arm so that they now clasped hands under the blanket, needing the comfort of human touch.

"Did ya love her?"

Startled back to the present, Ezra blinked as he tried to process the question. Finally admitting defeat, he asked, "I'm sorry, Vin. Love who?"

"The Cajun nurse."

Genuine laughter floated out of the gambler, delighted peals of amusement which tapered to muffled chortles as he realised that he was probably disturbing their neighbours. Choking, he gasped, "I don't think Etienne's wife, Odette, would have been too pleased if I had. Besides he was a very portly fifty year old man, not really my type."

Chuckling at his mistake, Vin squeezed the gambler's hand and said, "Sorry, pard. Yer just sounded right fond, so I thought it was a pretty young girl."

"Oh, I was very fond of both Etienne and Odette - still am. We still correspond occasionally," replied the southerner, chuckling again and planning on relaying this amusing misconception in his next missive to the elderly couple.

"Yer friend was a damn fine teacher, Ez, 'cos ma back ain't felt this good in years."

"I'm gratified to hear that, Vin. If this problem flares up in the future, you come see me immediately, you hear. In fact, since I have nobody else competing for that side of my bed, I think you should just plan on using it until the weather warms up. It can't be beneficial to your health to sleep in that draughty death trap on wheels you call a wagon," lectured Ezra, patting Vin's hand after releasing it and turning onto his back again.

"Folk'll talk iffun I's ter start sleeping up here regular, Ez," demurred the tracker, secretly pleased at the invitation and the trust it implied.

"I seriously doubt my reputation could sink any lower, Vin, and I've never been overly concerned with popular opinion. Besides, we have the formidable Mr Larabee in our corner. He knows you sleep better with someone watching over you and he's equally concerned with your health, so I'm sure he'll glare any gossip mongers into submission."

Sensing that Ezra was near sleep, Vin wriggled further under the covers and revelled in the warm security. Maybe it would be worth the risk.

"Ez?"

"Mmmm?"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, my friend. Now shut up and go to sleep."

Muffled chuckles soon faded to silence.


End file.
